


Divinity Versus Perdition

by ThylacineLily



Series: Kaster Lock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kaster!Lock, M/M, Priest!John, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThylacineLily/pseuds/ThylacineLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What am I going to do? He thought to himself as he glanced to the empty doorway, knowing what was waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divinity Versus Perdition

**Author's Note:**

> This story happened because I saw a picture done by an on-line artist called Humon, and you can see it to by going to the URL: http://humon.deviantart.com/art/Kaster-439881577 . I would actually suggest going here before you read on, because it also explains what I was going with =)

John Watson was tired after his long walk home from his job at the church, and all he wanted was to rest. His streak of bad luck had begun, without his knowledge, when lightning stuck a nearby transformer, knocking out power to the church. He could still use candlelight to finish sorting the books for the evening so he thought nothing of it. His bad luck became more noticeable to him when he went to leave and his car refused to start. Having left his cell at home, and the power being out at the church meaning no phone, he had to start walking home.  
  
As he walked in the heavy rain, he decided that when he got to a petrol station, or anything that was open, he would call for a taxi. This would never happen. The few businesses on his way home had already closed for the evening, so, no phones.  
  
Had any cars been out driving in the storm, he would have tried to hitchhike, but again, no such luck.  
  
By the time John made it home, he was soaked thoroughly from head to toe, slightly grumpy, and was ready to go to bed without supper; dinner would be a chore at this point and it wouldn't be the first time he had gone without food for a day. Before he could get to bed, however, he needed to see to his health before he could catch his death. He got a fire going, to heat up the place, and went to his laundry room, where he stripped off everything and threw it in the washer; a slip and fall into a muddy puddle had succeeded in making both him and his clothing completely filthy.  
  
He got the machine started and made his way through the living room, to his bathroom, where he took a quick, hot shower and was in the middle of drying off when his doorbell rang. He pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, he glanced at his clock, frowning at it for letting him know it was almost midnight. But who could be at his door at midnight? When his doorbell rang once more, John grabbed his old service pistol and tucked it into the waist of his pants, hiding it under his shirt as he made his way to the door. When he opened his door, he was greeted by a man, with what looked to be a cloak wrapped around him, standing on his stoop and  looking out at him from under his hood.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry to bother you at this hour, Sir, but might you have any food to spare?" Queried a deep but voice that rumbled like the thunder in the stormy sky, but trembled like a leaf in the wind.  
  
The poor man's request made John feel foolish for grabbing his gun, and he looked at the slightly pleading eyes and gave him a small smile. "Please, come in, at least until the storm lets up," he heard himself say, but he couldn't understand for the life of him why he was letting a stranger come in. Maybe it had something to do with his bad luck streak after work, but he just wanted to help this poor soul.  
  
The figure moved past him as he opened the door wider to grant entry, and as he turned to face the man, John felt his breath hitch in his throat. The man had turned to face him, and had let his hood fall back to reveal a long face  with high, sharp cheekbones and eyes that must haven stolen their colors from a kaleidoscope. A mop of wavy, black hair was soaked, causing it to lay mostly flat atop his head. He was the most beautiful thing John had ever seen. John licked his lips, which were suddenly as dry as the desert he had fought in, and tore his eyes away. "Let me get you a towel... Please, have a seat by the fire."  
  
John made a beeline for his linen closet, mentally scolding himself for his prior thoughts. Instead he directed his mind to the stranger's request. Food. Being frustrated enough not to eat when he got home, there was no food ready. That needed to change.  
  
When John returned to the living room, he stopped suddenly and his mouth went dry once more at the new sight that awaited him. Tall and thin, with lean muscle beneath creamy pale skin, the cloaked stranger now stood in the light of the fire. Shadows and light from the flames danced together on the man's nude body, but something else caught John's attention. There were gems: rubies, sapphires, spinels and emeralds, scattered in an intricate pattern on his flesh, glittering in a way that was most enticing. He was facing John, with a slight smirk, and his discarded blanket was in a wet heap on the floor where he had been standing when John first left him.  
  
"Welcome back kind sir," rumbled the deep voice. "Thank you for letting me into your home."  
  
He was perfect, and yet, he was also very dangerous. The gems in his flesh, showing himself like this... "You're welcome," he responded. "I, um, thought you were clothed underneath your cloak..." He lost his train of thought as the creature moved closer to him. He held out the towel, and was careful to not let their hands touch as the cloth was exchanged between them.  
  
"No sir, I had only my blanket on my person," replied the creature as it began to dry off. "I just used a section of it to form a hood of sorts."  
  
"If you would like, I could let you borrow a robe while I cook, and you can dry yourself off?"  
  
"If you would prefer I wear one, then I shall," said the creature with a small grin.  
  
The deep voice sent small shock waves up John's spine, and he managed a nod before he turned on his heel and went to his room. In his room, John grabbed out his dark blue robe and took a moment to gather himself, going over the events in his head.  
  
There was a Kaster in his home, warming up by the fire, and he invited him in. He thought he was helping someone in need, but instead it's a creature that tricks people into being kidnapped. He searched his mind for how to avoid such a trap, but failed miserably. He couldn't even remember how to get rid of one, his mind wasn't working for him; it kept straying back to the image of the creature's body, and how perfect he was. He was perfect, with the most heavenly voice, and he was causing stirrings that John wasn't used to with other men. He wasn't gay, but the thoughts this male was causing could have told a different story.  
  
Not knowing what would happen if the Kaster were to get suspicious of him taking so long, John left the security of his bedroom and returned to the living room.  
  
Waiting for him to return, the Kaster was on his knees by the fireplace, using the heat from the fire, and the towel, to dry his hair. As his hair dried, it had begun to switch from black to a dark brown, and it was becoming more curled than waved as the water was removed from the strands. As if sensing his presence, the Kaster sat up and peered at John from under the towel.  
  
"I brought the robe..." John managed to say, as he was still slightly mesmerized by watching the creature's muscles move from his actions.  
  
The Kaster rose to his feet, standing taller than John once more, and slowly strode towards him, stopping with only a foot between them. "Thank you for your kindness," he said as he took the offered robe and began to pull it on. "Might I ask you for your name sir?"  
  
"John," he answered as he looked up into the light-colored eyes that stared down at him. "My name is John Watson, and your name?"  
  
"My name is Sherlock Holmes," smiled the Kaster. "It's a pleasure."  
  
"Yes, the pleasure's all mine- I mean, yes, a pleasure to meet you as well. So, ah, what could I get you to eat? You said you wanted food, yes?"  
  
"I believe you said you were going to be cooking," Sherlock remarked as he tied the robe loosely shut and resumed drying his hair. "I'm already imposing as is, so I will just eat a helping of what you had planned on making yourself."  
  
"Alright. Until food is on, you can stay here and warm up. I can also throw your blanket in the dryer for you if you would like? Help it dry?"  
  
Sherlock eyed him with an odd look before he nodded and handed his blanket over after he had picked it up. "You're too kind, John."  
  
Hearing his name emerge from that gorgeous mouth sent John's blood rushing straight down and made him glad that the blanket was hiding his mid-torso and then lower. He was well aware of the stare burning into his back as he went to his laundry room; he was also aware of the heat he felt in his cheeks. In his laundry room, John paused when he saw his washer was done, and that meant his clothes were ready to be switched. He hesitated for barely a moment longer before he put the blanket into the dryer in a decision to hold off on drying his clothes just yet.  
  
 ** _What am I going to do?_** He thought to himself as he glanced to the empty doorway, knowing what was waiting for him. Whether or not John Watson knew it himself, he had missed danger and excitement, and there was a tall dose of it, wearing his robe, by the fire. **_What will he eat? What if he doesn't like what I make?_** He made a face at himself at his concern for whether or not the Kaster would like his food and questioned himself before excusing it away. **_If he doesn't like it, he might kidnap me and I don't want to die._**  
  
John left to go to the kitchen and began looking through his cabinets and his refrigerator for what he could make for the two of them to eat. He was running into a problem though. He was used to only making for himself, and because of his time in the Royal Army, he didn't keep much food handy, let alone in the form of meals for two. Oh, what a night this had turned out to be.  
  
His car had broken down, he had no way of calling for help so he had to walk home in the pouring down rain, now he had to figure out a Kaster. What had he done to warrant such bad luck? _**Perhaps it isn't bad luck,**_ he thought to himself as he grabbed out the items he would need to make sandwiches for him and Sherlock, pausing long enough to put a kettle on. _**Maybe God is testing me. But, how? My generosity? My caring of others? Cor, is that what I've become? The type of man who thinks everything gone wrong is a test by some higher power? This is just bad luck.**_  
  
"Do you live alone?"  
  
John jumped, startled, as he was pulled from his thoughts by a deep voice, and looked to the kitchen doorway to see the creature leaning against the entry. His pale flesh stood out against the dark blue of John's robe, causing highly improper thoughts to once more flood the priest's confused mind. It didn't help any that the robe seemed to have drooped a little by the Kaster's collarbone, exposing the smooth skin beneath the small gems that dusted that part of his skin.  
  
"Yes, I do," John answered as he tore his eyes away to focus on making the sandwiches, reminding himself that he still had his pistol tucked into the band of his sweatpants if he needed it. Though, he wasn't so sure he could use it on the Kaster if he wanted to. All thoughts of marring that beautiful body with a bullet wound had ebbed away at the oncoming lust-filled thoughts that made him want to do something entirely different to the body before him. "Your, um, the robe has sort of fallen o-open," he said, desperately hoping the Kaster would fix it.  
  
"Never married?" He questioned as he reached over, not seeing John peek over at him as he fixed the side that had fallen, looking as if he were surprised he didn't notice it fall.  
  
"And no kids," John replied, thankful he had fixed it. Now that he knew the man wasn't just some poor person that he would be taking advantage of, it was harder to keep his hands to himself with the Kaster, and he was doing a very good job of it so far. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I couldn't help but notice the lack of family photos on the mantle, the walls, or any surfaces. You also haven't mentioned that we should be quiet lest we accidentally wake someone up." He motioned to John's left hand. "Also, no tan lines where a ring would have been had you been betrothed. The lack of decor, or even a woman's touch, is the final piece that gives away your solitude. I was just asking to start conversation." When he finally noticed that John had been standing still and staring at him for the duration of his small speech, he appeared to slip a mask back into place as he looked at John's eyes. "What?"  
  
"That was...amazing," John answered, his voice filled with the awe he was experiencing. "Do you always do that?" He caught himself hoping this was common, and then mentally reprimanded himself for looking forward to future meetings between him and the Kaster.  
  
"Do what exactly?"  
  
"You noticed only a few things, yet you got all of that information from it."  
  
"I do pride myself on my deductions," Sherlock said as he watched John return to making the temporarily forgotten sandwiches. "You're impressed, are you?"  
  
"Very," John answered with a nod. "I've never seen anyone do that before." He put the sandwiches on plates before he put the kettle and a couple of tea cups on a tea tray, and then proceeded to carry the tray the dining room. At the table, he set down the tea tray and quickly set up the two places for him and Sherlock to sit for dinner. He turned to go get the plates from the kitchen, but found himself facing Sherlock, who was holding said plates. "Oh, um, thank you Sherlock."  
  
"You're welcome John. You took me in for the evening, clothed me, even if only temorarily, and you didn't tell me to 'piss off' when I deduced you. The least I could do would be to help you lay out dinner."  
  
John sat down and poured their tea as Sherlock sat across from him and set their plates in front of each of them. "I hope you like the sandwiches, Sherlock, I wasn't sure what to make."  
  
"It should be fine," Sherlock smiled slightly as he took a sip of his tea. "Why did you not marry?" He questioned as he set his cup down.  
  
 _ **Well don't you just rush right in...**_ John thought as he debated over what, and what not, to say. "I went into the Royal Army young, and I didn't want to have someone waiting around for bad news," he answered before he took a bite of his sandwich. "I was only a doctor, but you know... I had bad days."  
  
"And after?" The Kaster quirked a perfect brow as he regarded John with a stare that John quickly registered as an analytical one.  
  
 ** _Thank you for not asking about times between,_** John thought with a wave of relief that he didn't let show on the surface. **_I really did not want to have to explain "Three Continents" Watson..._** "I tried a few times at dating, but nothing really panned out," he said before taking a sip of his tea. "So, for now, I've stopped looking and I'm content being alone."  
  
"And you haven't found someone within your flock, Priest?"  
  
John set his sandwich down, unaware that he was beginning to tense up, and shook his head as he chewed, which was a little bit of a chore since his usual response to a trigger like that was to clench his jaw. This Kaster did not know the type of man he was, so he was allowed to slide for an insinuation he frequently heard from people who usually meant ill by it. He chose his words carefully before he spoke. "Not that any of the church-goers are not special, but none of them really have the qualities that I seek in a partner."  
  
"I see." Sherlock nibbled at his sandwich. "This is truly delicious, John, thank you again for your aid tonight. I would not feel right if I did not repay you for your hospitality."  
  
The priest's blue eyes met with the prism eyes that stared back at him, awaiting response. "I don't want anything in return," John said, his voice ringing with only sincerity. "I've gotten enough from having helped you in your time of need. Sherlock, your thanks is just fine."  
  
An odd look flashed in the Kaster's eyes, just for a moment, but John noticed it, even though he couldn't decode it. Sherlock finished his tea and set his empty cup on the table. "I do believe the rain has stopped."  
  
Those seven little words, the sudden announcement that their time was up, sent an odd and unexpected stab of disappointment through John's mood, and he hid it as best as he could. Hoping Sherlock was wrong, at the same time surprising himself once again, he listened closely for the sound of rain; he was saddened to hear nothing. Nothing at all. Not even the dryer. He looked to the man before him, the two of them locking eyes with one another as if they were both assessing the situation. He knew that the man seated across from him was a Kaster; he was a creature known to kidnap men and take them underground. They were dangerous, but Sherlock was smart, very smart, and gorgeous in every way.  
  
 _ **How can he make me think like this? I don't like men, only women,** _ he thought to himself. ** _I'm not gay... But I don't want him to go._** "So...does this mean you'll be going then?"  
  
"I had only planned on staying until the rain had slowed," Sherlock answered, regarding John with a slight curiosity. "I've overstayed my welc-"  
  
"No." John interrupted. "No you haven't." For the time being he didn't care that he was being rude, even though he was very surprised that he was doing so. He was just focused on making sure his guest didn't feel pressed to leave. "I've really enjoyed your company, and as I already said, I don't get much. You could even stay longer if you would like." **_Could you sound more desperate?_**  
  
Sherlock rose to his feet and looked down at John. "I do have to take my leave, I'm afraid, would you please see if my blanket is dry?"  
  
John gave a short nod, trying desperately to contain his drop in mood, and left Sherlock in the dining room to retrieve the blanket from the laundry room. Much to his dismay the blanket was indeed dry, so he removed it from the dryer, threw his clothes in and started the machine, and then made his way back to the dining room. Upon returning, he was graced with Sherlock's beauty once more as Sherlock had removed the robe, and folded it over the back of the chair where he had previously sat. Standing before John, he was completely nude and his gems were dancing in the lights of the small room as each of the Kaster's breaths made his chest move slightly. When he caught himself staring, John mentally shook himself back to what was going on.  
  
"Here's your blanket, all dry and still warm," John said as he handed the blanket over to Sherlock's awaiting hand, but unlike last time they almost touched, he didn't try to avoid it, but didn't cause it to happen either.  
  
Sherlock took the blanket and wrapped it around himself, holding it closed as he stared at the priest. "Are you sure I couldn't repay you?" He questioned. "You could take one of my gems if you like. A ruby perhaps? Maybe a spinel or emerald?"  
  
"I already told you Sherlock, I got enough from helping you, and from enjoying your company," John answered as he walked with him to the door. "Will I see you again? Around town I mean."  
  
Sherlock locked eyes with John one last time as he stepped out into the night and pulled a section of the blanket into a hood that he pulled over his head. "There's only one way to see me again, John," he spoke softly, his deep voice barely heard.  
  
Desperate to find a way to see the Kaster again, his lips moved for John as he asked, "How?"  
  
Reaching his arm out towards John, Sherlock spoke again. "Take my hand."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't shoot me for the cliffhanger! The 2nd part, titled A Divine Hunger, is where the cliffhanger is resolved. So, that being said, hurry up and go check it out!


End file.
